Choice
by speechless97
Summary: "Choose, Derek.", the voice said. It was robotic, cold, unfeeling.  Derek almost flinched at those words. Why him? Choose what? Who lives and who dies? He wasn't going to do that. There was no way he was choosing between his Baby Girl and his partner.
1. Chapter 1

**[This was better in my head when I came up with it. I don't like it too much on paper, but it's been sitting on my computer for ages so I thought I'd see how people like it. So here ya go.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds...]**

"_Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice." -_Ayn Rand

"Choose, Derek.", the voice said. It was robotic, cold, unfeeling.

Derek almost flinched at those words. Why him? Choose what? Who lives and who dies? He wasn't going to do that.

"What?", his words came in a whisper, he was surprised the UnSub even heard him through the video call.

"I said CHOOSE. The one you choose gets to walk, the other stays here with me. You're lucky, Derek, that I'm letting you choose, really, I didn't get a choice.", he practically spat, and the connection went black.

There was a sad silence in the BAU conference room.

"I would pick Garcia. Emily has training and she-", Reid started, but Morgan cut him off.

"You don't think I'm actually gonna pick, do you?", he said, anger becoming evident in his voice.

"If you don't, I think he'll just kill one of them.", Hotch said, slightly flinching on the word kill.

Derek thought about this for a second. He was right. He had to pick.

"But Emily looks hurt.", he said, voice low again. Yes he needed to get his baby girl out, she couldn't handle this, but he couldn't just leave his partner there to die.

"We have no choice, Derek. We can't leave a technical analyst with no defense or combat training in there. We all know Prentiss can handle herself."

And that seemed to be the end of the discussion.

"Question is, how do you take two FBI agents hostage without causing some type of disturbance? There were no signs of struggle at neither apartment.", said Reid, jumping straight into the profile.

"So, what, we're thinking 2 UnSubs?", said Hotch.

"No, his vendetta against Morgan seemed to be personal. He said that he, alone, didn't get to choose. This seems like revenge, and if he had a partner, he would've shown already.", Rossi chipped in.

"It wouldn't be that hard.", Derek said, looking down at the table. It seemed he couldn't get his face above a whisper today. How could all of them be so professional when two of their team were being held hostage, for God's sakes?

"What?"

"I said, it wouldn't have been hard.", Derek forced his voice to rise. "Penelope wouldn't have been a hard target. So the UnSub gets her first, goes to Emily's, tells her to go with him or he'll shoot Garcia, and there you have it. We all know that's exactly what Emily would do. Maybe that's why she was so badly beaten; she probably tried to profile him and get him to let Garcia go."

"Yeah, but keeping two hostages quiet and contained, that still takes some manpower.", Rossi said, flinching on the word hostages. He promised himself he wouldn't refer to them as victims.

"Maybe he payed someone,off the street. A junkie maybe.", Reid said.

"Rossi, go out on the street and see how hard it would be to find someone to help you kidnap two people. Focus on junkies and prostitutes, anyone desperate for money. Reid, you start going through Morgan's old cases, see who fits the profile, and might've held a grudge. I'm going to go pick up JJ from the airport, we need her help on this." Hotchner was in full boss mode now.

"What about me?" Morgan said

"You are to stay here, help Reid and think about who this UnSub might be. And wait for the next call. We have borrowed Kevin Lynch and he will be trying to trace the computer. Got it?", he said, already walking out, Rossi close behind.

* * *

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"Emily, Em?", Penelope's voice was low, trembling.

"I'm okay Pen.", she said, but she did not sound okay. Didn't look like it either. Her face was bruised and blood was running down her lips from where he'd hit her. That's what she assumed anyway; Penelope's eyes had been closed the whole time.

"Why do you have to provoke him Em?", she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she craned her neck to look at her friend, tears in her eyes.

"He wants us to squirm, he likes it. If we're both cooperative he'll get bored and probably kill us. Besides, I want to start on a profile, and getting him angry is the best way to do that.", Emily said, slightly wincing at the pain in her lip as she tried to talk.

It was true, what she said. She was starting on a profile, but she wasn't very far along. This guy seemed to be changing personalities every time he came to 'talk', which basically meant beat her to a pulp.

"Can I do the squirming?", Emily heard Garcia say as tears rolled down the analyst's face.

"Penelope, listen to me. You will keep your pretty little mouth shut, and be a perfect hostage. Then, when Derek picks you, you will go with him. You will try to remember what you smell, what you hear, every turn he makes. The you will tell all that to the team and help them find me. Got it?", her tone was aggressive when she said this. She must've sounded almost mad. Instantly, the guilt hit. She hadn't meant to be angry at her friend. They had to stick together.

But she had to, somehow, get the idea of angering the UnSub out of Garcia's head. Emily could take it, this was what Emily was trained for. Besides, Garcia deserved to live, she was genuinely an amazing person. She had people to go home to. Emily didn't deserve to die either, she knew, but her life was nothing compared to her friend's.

She'd done so many things she regretted... But now wasn't the time to think about death. She would have time for that later. Right now, she just needed a way to convince Penelope to drop it.

So she reached behind her where her hands were tied to her friend's, grabbing her hand and squeezing.

Garcia still hadn't answered, so Emily just said, "Okay?", her tone gentler this time.

"Y- ye-yes.", came Garcia's shaky reply, her voice shaking with sobs as Emily squeezed her hand once more.

It would be okay. Derek would pick Penelope, and Emily would make sure she got out alive.

As for herself, she wasn't so sure, but that didn't matter.

**[What do you think, should I continue? Review please :)]**


	2. Chapter 2

**[So here you go, a chapter two! Enjoy (:]**

"_Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon metal, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart or substance of a metal." -_Bishop Robert South

"Why them?", came Reid's voice from behind a file he was holding above his face.

"Huh?", Derek said, confused.

"Why did he pick specifically Emily and Garcia? Who are they to you? Maybe that symbolizes something to our UnSub."

Derek though this over for a second before finally answering.

"They're the two most important women in my life, besides my family.", he said, his voice dry.

And, undoubtedly, this was true. He loved his mom and sisters to death, but he didn't get to see them very often. Emily and Penelope, however, were the ones he knew better than anyone else. Garcia was nothing less of his best friend, his shoulder to lean on. Emily was his partner; and he trusted her with his life every day. They shared everything with each other, at first because they needed to, to build their trust. But now, it was because they wanted to. They really genuinely enjoyed each others company. And he knew, even though they never said it, that they had to be best friends too.

That thought made the decision he was about to make even harder. Derek didn't know if he could look Emily in the face and say that he was leaving her to die, even if she knew he had to. Even if he knew she'd understand, he knew it would still hurt. Maybe it would hurt him more than her.

But he knew he could never leave Penelope in there. She'd already been through so much – she didn't sign up for any of this. He had to get her out.

That thought cemented in his mind, he looked over to Reid, who was sorting the files into two piles.

"What are you doing kid?", he just managed to say, even though he knew the answer.

"Well, I'm going to try to focus on UnSub's who'd lost their wives, sisters, daughters, because of you, or maybe a female victim's family member who might've held a grudge."

Damn, the kid really didn't know how to sugar-coat things, did he?

The guilt hit again, almost like a wave that just kept on coming. This was fault. This bastard wasn't targeting the team, or Emily, or Pen, it was him. It had to be something he did, someone he failed to save.

"Damn it!", he said, getting up and slamming his fist against the table. Reid just seemed unaffected. He knew how this would affect Morgan. He'd prepared himself for this. Morgan wore his anger like a shield from his emotions. The young genius couldn't say he disapproved, however, because he did the same with his intellect.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Derek's phone. It had barely gotten through the first ring when he picked up, this Reid noticed.

"What have you got Rossi?", he said, no doubt trying to make his voice sound professional.

There was a pause before he said "Alright, call me if you get anything else.", and flipped his phone closed.

Derek turned to Reid, disappointed.

"Rossi asked around on the streets, and it wouldn't be hard to find someone to help you, but you would have to pay a chunk of money. At least a couple grand. But that option's out because he talked to the locals, and no one off the streets has been missing since last night."

"So it's most likely someone he knows helping him.", Reid said, scanning a file and putting it in the fast growing pile of maybes.

"Question is, why hasn't the other guy shown yet?", Morgan said, picking up a file and taking a deep breath in. They were going to find them before he had to choose.

They just had to.

* * *

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Penelope had been humming. Every song she knew, really, she would close her eyes and hum. Yes, maybe it seemed childish and unimportant at that very moment, but all she knew was that it helped. Because then she wouldn't have to see Emily, now unconscious, sitting in the chair beside her, body limp, blood on her face and staining her shirt. She wouldn't have to feel her own sweat and tears mixing into a sticky mess on her face and the tingling in her legs as she regained feeling in them. She could just close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere – anywhere – else.

She was halfway through 'Bad Romance' when she heard the bolt being opened.

Immediately, her mind was thrown back into that cellar, back into reality. Something hit first – panic. Yeah, she usually felt panicked and scared and confused when he came to talk to them. But it would be Emily talking; her making all the right moves and mentally working on his profile. She knew what to say to him, she knew what he would do. That was her area of expertise. Penelope's was computers, which, in this situation, didn't prove the least bit useful.

But now, she had to face him alone.

Emily was out, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he wouldn't hurt her anymore. Unconscious was bad, but she wasn't dead. Penelope had made sure of that. Her hand had found itself back to Emily's pulse after every song,

Deep breaths, she thought to herself, checking Emily's pulse again. Still there. She was fighting, so Penelope had to fight too.

So she closed her eyes as the tap of the boots against the cellar floor got closer, until it was right under her chair.

Then, she took a deep breath and opened them, finding herself looking into piercing blue eyes.

He seemed to survey her for a second before getting something out of his pocket and turning to Emily.

"What are you doing?", Penelope said, her voice coming out shakier than she intended.

"Cleaning her up. I hate blood.", he said simply. It didn't sound threatening, like his words before, just simple, robotic.

"Oh.", was all she managed to say as she watched the blood being wiped off of her friend. She found herself taking deep, calming breaths again, wishing he would leave. Trying to visualize the team, Derek, out there, getting closer and closer to finding them.

Before she knew it, she tap of the boots started again and got fainter. Then, she heard the bolt shut, the same loud sound as before, echoing for a minute before finally settling into silence.

She sat there for what felt like hours, but had to be a couple minutes at the least, in silence. But she couldn't do it.

So when the silence felt like it was enveloping her whole, like she couldn't breathe because of the harsh reality that seemed to be squeezing all the air out of her lungs, that's when she started humming again.

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A low moan came from Emily as she stirred in her chair.

"Oh god, Emily, are you okay?", Penelope stammered out, almost surprised at the sound of her own voice.

"I've been better.", came the low reply as Emily attempted to test her body for any new injuries.

A silence overcame them again. There just wasn't much to say. But Penelope couldn't stand it, so she blurted out "He came in while you were out."

"What did he do?"

"He was being nice. You know, how he is sometimes. He cleaned you up."

"Why?", Emily said, puzzled. She was going through the possibilities of why his personality kept changing. Yes, it could be Split Personality disorder, but then it would probably be more than two distinct personalities, and they'd only seen two. It could be him showing remorse, but that wouldn't cause such a drastic change. Emily was officially puzzled. And, her head hurt like a bitch. Which wasn't helping.

"He said he hated blood.", Penelope said, shrugging.

Before Emily could respond, the dead bolt was being opened again.

The click came again, getting closer, until he was right in Emily's face, grabbing her by her hair.

A little cry of pain escaped Emily's lips, but not much. She had to be strong, for Garcia, she kept telling herself.

He let go, sick smile on his face, and looked her right in the eyes, taunting.

"I think it's just about time to make a little phone call."

**[Review for a chapter 3 :)**

**Also, where should I go with this story? I could leave it gen and friendship, or turn it into a pairing. Haven't quite decided. What do you guys think?] **


	3. Chapter 3

**[Here you go, a pretty quick update, because inspiration is coming pretty fast for this story :)**

**Warning: this chapter contains quite a bit of abuse.]**

"_We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope." _-Martin Luther King Jr.

Everything seemed to be happening at once. The shrill ring coming from the computer, Hotch's orders for Kevin to start tracking the IP address, the noise as everyone shuffled into Kevin's tiny office. But what he heard the loudest had to be the hammering of his own heart; it was like it was going to beat right out of his chest.

Yes, he knew what his decision had to be, for the good of the team, for everyone. He'd gone over the conversation he was about to have with the UnSub a million times in his head, trying to convince himself to make the right move. And it had worked, in his head at least.

But now, he'd have to see them. With his own eyes, he would have to look at his partner and tell her he was leaving her with a killer bent on revenge. But he knew he had no other choice.

Kevin's fingers were moving at the speed of light as JJ pressed the 'answer' button, giving him a reassuring look.

The scene on the screen wasn't much different than before, and Emily didn't look to be hurt too much more than last time. At this, Derek breathed out a sigh of relief.

Penelope looked the same – just more helpless and scared, if that was possible. The sight of it made his heart ache; he'd let his baby girl go through god-knows-what because of him. She must hate him. They both probably did.

A man came into view this time, which surprised everyone. Last time, he had just talked. They'd factored that into the profile, they'd assumed it was part of his MO.

Just another thing they were wrong about.

Derek took in the man's appearance. He was wearing a red flannel shirt tucked into khakis, the beginnings of a beard on his face, his hair cut short. But the thing that got you the most – were his eyes, They were a piercing blue, and they looked kind. He wouldn't look threatening, in the slightest. Derek imagined you would let him talk to your kids, approach you on the street – he looked so normal. And those, he knew, were usually the most dangerous.

But this man, the way he was dressed, his face, the determination plastered on it seemed to spark a recognition inside Derek. This man reminded him of someone, something. He just couldn't place what.

He shook his head, putting that thought out of his mind for now. Now, he had to focus on the man's words, on making the right decision.

"So, Derek, have you made up your mind?", he said, his voice echoing, just the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.

"Yes. I have. But since you know my name, why don't you tell me yours?", Derek tried, following the script they had written to a tee, trying not to look at the to women tied up in the chairs, both inadvertently avoiding eye contact with the camera.

They were both staring at the wall, hands linked behind the chairs they were confined to.

Their faces, however, told different stories. Emily's was one of pure determination. Derek knew she had a plan laid out, one that no doubt involved getting Garcia out, worrying about everyone else's safety before her own.

Penelope's was one of guilt and sadness. Tears were streaming down her face, and her chin was quivering with silent cries. No doubt, she knew he was going to pick her. And she was guilty, already, even though she'd done nothing wrong. It just about broke Derek's heart.

The UnSub's harsh laughter pulled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no, no, Agents. That one, you'll have to figure out for yourself. Now, your choice.", he said, motioning to Derek.

The team was disappointed. Of course, this is what they'd expected, but they'd hoped that for once, something would be easy. No such luck.

"Penelope.", Derek said, closing his eyes, his voice cracking at the last syllable. He didn't want to see Emily's face, her reaction. He knew already this would haunt his nightmares, even if they did manage to save both of them. He didn't need her face adding to that.

The UnSub seemed to contemplate this for a second before breaking into a grin.

"Good, I like this one. She's feisty.", he said, walking over to Emily and grabbing her face with his hand, leaning close to her.

JJ's reassuring hand on Derek's arm was the only thing keeping him grounded as he took deep breaths.

He watched as Emily spit in his face, which he expected. He knew her; this was exactly what she would do. Wincing, he saw how it earned her a slap across the face.

Garcia's cries turned into sobs as he cut the ropes behind her back and pulled her roughly up from the chair. Garcia's hand held on to Emily's, however, until he pried it away.

Then he walked up to the camera, practically dragging Penelope along with him. He leaned in close and said, "I'm gonna make her death slow, and you have until I'm done with her to figure this out Derek. As for Penelope here, you'll find her soon enough."

Then, the connection went blank again.

There was another silence; everyone just seemed to be in shock.

Naturally the first one to snap out of it was Hotch.

"Kevin, have you got a trace?"

"Yes, sir, I think I do, 47 West brook Lane.", the analyst replied, looking nervous.

There was hope – was all Derek thought as he rushed to the car and put his vest on, making sure his gun was in place.

He had a feeling that this UnSub wouldn't be so easy, that he was smarter than to leave his computer traceable. On the other side, he didn't seem to be the computer kind of guy.

All monsters, fictional and real, he had learned over the years, had a flaw. Something they forgot, overlooked, didn't think mattered. And their job was to seek out those flaws and use them to catch the monsters.

He hoped, prayed, that this bastard's flaw, his weakness, was computers.

But that's all it was – hope – conjecture. And as much as he hoped he was right, there was just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that nothing ever came this easy.

* * *

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Her mind was still hazy from the concussion she was now sure she had. The whole video call seemed to be a blur, the only thing she felt clearly was Garcia's hand holding on to hers as she was being pulled away, the teary-eyed look Penelope gave her as the door shut, her mouthing 'We will find you' as tears rolled down her face.

Then, she was alone. Finally, her head seemed to clear, and the reality set in.

Now she was alone, with him.

This was the time to profile him – to really get inside his head. She didn't have anyone to protect anymore, it was just her, and she could handle whatever he threw at her.

It seemed like just minutes later that the door was being opened again, and she was staring into his icy blue eyes for what felt like the millionth time.

"Now it's just me and you princess.", he said, smiling.

She brought her knee up to hit his crotch, and he doubled over in pain. Okay, she hadn't planned on that, but he had used Derek's nickname for her. She was sure it was just a coincidence – this guy didn't seem like the stalking type, but that didn't change the fact that it made her pissed.

She was sure she wouldn't even let guys she was dating call her that. Somehow, even though they'd never officially discussed it, 'princess' was special. It was hers. He called Penelope dozens of nicknames, but just one was reserved for her. And, as much as she would never admit it, she liked that.

"Oh so you wanna play dirty then?", he said, hate in his voice.

Now was the time, she thought. In this state, she'd be able to get more out of him than any other way. Even if it did cause her a world of pain. But it would be okay, because pain, she could live with. Dying at the hands of some coward hell-bent on revenge, she could not.

"I'm not even sure you know how, you're just a coward.", she said, wincing as she took another blow to her ribs.

"Shut up.", he stuttered through clenched teeth, slapping her again, a new red mark forming over her already blue and purple cheek.

"What made you so angry anyway, that you hate Derek so much?", she said, trying to block out the pain.

"I said SHUT UP BITCH." His face was turning even redder now, his blows becoming harder and more intense.

"No, I'm just wondering, what did he do? But the coward part, you are just that. Because instead of just going out and confronting him, here you are, playing around with girls and chloroform. You're not a real man, are you?", she said, gasping for breath.

"IT WAS ALL PART OF THE PLAN!", he yelled, his composure finally breaking.

"What plan? You're just WEAK.", she spit the last word out, taking a hit in the face which made her nose spurt blood. She could feel the warmth of it flowing own her face as she waited for his response.

"NO! HE PROMISED HE WOULD GET HER FOR MY WIFE. HE PROMISED, AND HE LET HER DIE! MY BABY GIRL. THE MOST IMPORTANT GIRL IN MY LIFE. AND NOW, HE'S GONNA LOSE HIS.", he said, delivering, one final blow to her stomach before stepping away.

"So see, I'm not stupid or WEAK, this is just my plan. And besides, losing you is gonna hurt him way more than dying himself. He can live with the guilt like I have been, like my wife couldn't.", he said, turning on his heels and walking away, even forgetting to lock the door in his rage.

Yes, this might've been the perfect opportunity to escape, she thought to herself, but she was in no state now.

Her coughing was becoming irregular and dry, the pain in her ribs only getting worse.

She knew she wouldn't make it much longer. Blood was already pooling on the floor under her chair; her eyes were already starting to droop from exhaustion.

But she couldn't think about any of that as realization finally dawned on her.

She remembered, she knew who this was.

Now if only the team could figure it out too, she thought to herself as her cough produced a stream of red that blended into the bloody mess already on her face. She didn't have long left, that she knew.

She just hoped the team could figure it out in time.

**[Hope you liked it.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated :)]**


	4. Chapter 4

**[Oh boy, this chapter gave me trouble! I have a good idea of what will happen in this story, but this chapter was kind of a segway that I couldn't get! It just doesn't seem right, but I decided to stop torturing myself with it and post it. So here you go, not my best, but I promise future chapters will be better. Enjoy!]**

"_At the core of life is a hard purposefulness, a determination to live." _-Howard Thurman

It was just an empty warehouse. No Emily, no Garcia, no UnSub. The team all wore matching looks of disappointment as they returned to the FBI building.

They'd all tried not to expect it to be so easy, but secretly, all of them hoped that for once it would be.

And now it seemed they were back to square one. No solid profile, no IP address, no location.

All they could do was sort through old case files, hoping something would jump out at them, and wait for someone to find Garcia.

"Everyone grab a stack of files! JJ, have you contacted Ambassador Prentiss yet?", Hotch ordered as soon as they stepped foot inside the conference room.

"Yes, her words were, and I quote 'Okay' and 'Tell me when something changes.'", JJ replied, looking disgusted.

"Okay, keep her updated. Now, Reid, tell us what we're looking for."

"Alright, our UnSub is in his mid-to-late 30's, he lost an important woman in his life, daughter, wife, sister. She might've been a victim of a previous case that we, more specifically Derek, couldn't save. He wouldn't have been vocal about his anger towards Morgan, he had a specific plan, so anyone who'd voiced threats is out. Our guy is meticulous; everything must go according to plan. Also, we believe he may have a partner, one that's completely submissive to him. But you have to focus on the Alpha of the partnership – and our UnSub is just that.", Reid finished, nodding at the team, and other agents who'd come to help out, to start.

They all diligently did so, but everyone's minds were clearly somewhere else.

Every member, except Reid, seemed to be genuinely out of it.

Reid, well, he just watched, and he noticed things.

He noticed how Derek had been staring at the same file for 8 minutes and 34 seconds.

He noticed how JJ had gone to the bathroom twice, each time coming back with puffy eyes and less and less make up on.

He noticed how Hotch hadn't called Jack today, not even once, like he usually did.

He noticed that Rossi's eyes had been glued to Emily's desk since the first phone call, as if he was hoping that if he looked long enough, she would appear again, as if nothing had happened.

Everyone's heads seemed to snap up as JJ's phone rang.

She fumbled with it for just a second, clearly startled, before answering.

"We'll be right there, Pen, don't move.", she said, already walking out, motioning for Hotch and Derek to follow.

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He'd assumed she would be crying.

Penelope had always been emotional, to say the least. They'd watched her sob over the video call countless times. She cried for anything and everyone, that's why what she was doing now was strange.

Derek expected her to look sad, or scared, both of which involved crying.

But she wasn't. She seemed to be just staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on a stop sign across the street.

She didn't say a word; not when he removed the restraints that kept one of her arms tied to the dumpster and took the blindfold off. Not even when he wrapped his arms around her, and practically carried her to the SUV.

The same blank expression on her face remained.

It was pure determination, like she was scared that if she looked at the team, or even acknowledged their presence, she would forget.

Derek thought about this as he slid into the back seat with her and took her hand in his.

"Pen, I know you've been through a lot, so we're gonna give you some time to rest, but you're going to have to tell us what you remember soon -"

"No.", she cut him off, still not making eye contact.

He just looked at her questioningly.

"I'm ready now. We have to get Emily out.", she said, closing her eyes, as if ready to begin.

"Are you sure Baby Girl?", he said, his voice softer now.

"Start Derek."

"Alright. Close your eyes. It's Tuesday night. We've just finished a case, you packed up for the day, now you're going home. What do you remember?", he said, gripping her hand tighter.

"I was walking down my block to my apartment building. I remember it smelled like pastries – I was passing the bakery. There was no one on the street, it was almost midnight. I was halfway to my building when I smelled something sweet, and a rag was being pressed up against my nose. Next thing I remember was waking up in that chair next to Emily."

Derek tried to keep his composure as he said "Now, what did the room smell like? Look like? What did you hear?"

"It was just a big room. Gray walls, nothing in there but two chairs and video equipment. It was... quiet. And warm. It smelled like a basement – kinda musty."

"What happened when you woke up?"

"I woke up first, and then Emily. We were there for a couple hours maybe before he came in. He was rambling on about how this was the perfect revenge, how much you deserved it."

She paused for a second before continuing. "Then Emily started to ask him questions. He didn't answer, he didn't even seem bothered by it, but he started hitting her."

Derek clenched his fists, earning a supportive look from Hotch, who was driving in the front.

"How many times did he come in?"

"I'm not sure, five maybe. Two before the first call."

"Did you notice anything about him, at all?"

"He.. changed. Once he would come in, rambling about revenge and beat Emily up. The next time, he would come he wouldn't talk, just clean us up and give us water. He would even act kind of nice. Emily was trying to figure out why."

"Okay, now, after I – chose you and he took you, describe to me what happened."

Tears were rolling down her face now, and Derek leaned in to wipe them away.

"As soon as we were out the door, he blindfolded me. Then, I'm pretty sure we went up some stairs. As soon as we hit the top... it smelled like grass, and it was windy. All of a sudden he tossed me into the car. It smelled like... cigarettes. And it was definitely a van, since there was room on the floor in the back. Must've been pretty old too, from the sounds the engine was making. We drove for exactly 13 minutes, pretty slowly. Then, he dropped me off here, handed me a disposable cell-phone and tied one of my hands to the dumpster."

Derek looked down at her hands. Around her wrists there were red marks and scars from the ropes – she would need to get those looked at.

"You did great Baby. Great.", he said, and she finally looked into his eyes.

Hers were full of guilt, and fear as she finally collapsed onto him and let herself cry.

In the front, Hotch was already pulling out his cell.

"Kevin, can you look for any buildings with cellars in a 20 mile radius from where we picked Garcia up. Also, cross-reference any suspects the team finds with owners of old vans in the area."

He listened for a second before hanging up and looking back at Penelope, now wrapped securely in Derek's arms. Morgan showed a mixture of relief, anger, and just pure guilt.

Yes, they had Penelope. She wasn't injured. She would finally be safe.

He just wished they could say the same for Emily.

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Emily woke up in pain.

Not as much as she'd imagined she would be in however. In all honesty, she didn't expect to wake up at all, with all the injuries she had.

She scanned her body and found that she'd been cleaned up again.

Bandages covered many of the injuries, and the blood off the floor was gone.

Emily tried to shift in her chair and almost cried out at the pain in her ribs.

Okay, so this guy cleaned up all the blood, but he didn't know how to treat broken bones. Definitely no medical background then, she thought, adding that to her mental profile.

A cough escaped her lips and produced a stream of blood again. She tried to put her worsening condition out of her head as she thought about the UnSub.

She knew who he was – at least who his family had been. What she didn't know is why his personality kept changing.

She tried to wreck her brain for something, anything that she had missed that would explain this, but she found she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't think of anything but the searing pain in her chest.

Looking down at her hands, she realized that they were slowly turning an unhealthy shade of blue. That could not be good.

Emily tried to think of anything to get her mind off the pain.

She tried to visualize the team's faces in her mind, but found that she couldn't even conjure that up. She'd just seen them, what was it, maybe three days ago, and she couldn't even see their faces anymore? Pathetic. She was pathetic.

Soon, the door was being opened again.

She realized she needed more out of him – agitating him more would increase the chances of him talking, of giving something away about himself.

But now, she knew, she had to think rationally.

The more she agitated him, the more he hurt her. And her main priority was staying alive.

As much as she knew she could get something out of him, she knew he would kill her. The guy had a temper. All there was left to do was wait for the next call.

So she just kept quiet as the cycle started again.

Hits to the face, her already bruised ribs, her legs. She lost count of all the bones he'd broken.

"Not too talkative now, are we?", she heard him say between hits.

Even as everything inside her was telling her to talk back to him, to give him a piece of his mind, she just kept silent, tried not to make a sound as the hits came. Call it survival instinct.

After what seemed like hours, she felt herself fading.

The last thing she heard before slipping into unconsciousness was a familiar voice coming from outside the cellar.

"Bobby, stop, you're not supposed to kill her yet!"

The last thought that crossed her mind was that she understood. The partner, the UnSub, everything.

She felt relieved as her mind faded into blackness.

**[What do you think? Who do you think the UnSub is, and his partner? Reviews encourage me to keep writing :)]**


	5. Chapter 5

**[Not too many reviews last chapter, so I'm kind of debating whether to continue or not. I'd like to thank WynonaRose for being quite the faithful reviewer :)**

**Anyways, here you go, chapter 5! Hope you enjoy ;D]**

"_To understand a man, you must know his memories." _-Anthony Quayle

"How is she?", Rossi asked, concern lacing his tone.

"She's pretty shaken up, but she gave us a lot of information. She's just determined to get Emily home.", Hotch replied, grim look on his face as he glanced over to Garcia's dark office where she had fallen asleep just moments earlier.

"I think we all are.", JJ said, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Did you get anything new?", Rossi asked.

"Yes. Penelope said that when Emily started asking questions, he didn't lose his temper, but he started to hit her."

"So, like a system of punishment. Pretty old fashioned. He didn't need to hit her, but he needed to have control – to show her the consequences of questioning him.", Rossi concluded.

The team nodded.

"Also, she mentioned that Emily was trying to figure out why the UnSub's personality kept changing. He would come in once and be assertive and demanding, the next time he would be quiet and even polite, like cleaning Emily's wounds."

"You think maybe Split Personality Disorder?", JJ asked.

"Well, the causes of split personality disorder are mainly psychological factors, like child abuse, traumatic childhood experiences like loss of a near one, intensive humiliation, neglected childhood or difficulty adapting to change. Sometimes people are so greatly affected or influenced by some incident or person, that the feelings resurface as another personality and the person lives a different life, the kind he wished for but could not given his real situation.", Reid explained.

"So that could be it. Our UnSub faced some trauma in his youth, or maybe when the woman in his life died, so he developed another personality. One that's assertive and is willing to do something about it."

"Not necessarily. Split Personality Disorder, almost 90% of the time, involves more than one identity. Garcia only mentioned him having two.", Spencer clarified.

"So it's not likely?", JJ said, disappointed. She thought they were finally getting somewhere, but apparently not.

Reid just shook his head in frustration. He was officially confused. And it took a lot to confuse Spencer Reid.

A silence came over the profilers as each of them tried to wreck their brains for an explanation. The truth was; they were overtired, understaffed, and very emotionally involved. All of them knew it, but that didn't mean any of them would stop trying.

Morgan quietly re-entered the room then, having soothed Penelope and made sure she had the best protection detail in the building.

"Did Garcia mention anything about a partner?", Reid said, breaking the silence.

"No, she only remembered seeing one man – our UnSub.", Hotch replied.

"So maybe there is no partner! What if we've been looking at this wrong all along!" Morgan said, his voice rising.

"Or maybe the partner just doesn't want to be seen.", Hotch shot back, his tone signaling to Morgan to get his anger in check.

"We just don't know! Let's face it, he's been one step ahead of us this entire time! We're just playing his game and it's going exactly the way he wants it to! I'm sick and tired of it!", Morgan practically yelled before slamming the door to the conference room and storming out.

A look overcame Hotch – something none of the profilers could place.

"Don't worry about him, you know it's just the guilt eating away at him.", JJ said, attempting to somehow justify her friend's outburst. Truth was, if this had happened to her two best friends because of her, she would probably be in a worse state right now.

"No, he's right.", Hotchner said quietly, looking down at the table.

"Hotch, come on, we've all been-", Rossi started, but he was cut off.

"Derek was right. We don't have to play by his rules.", Hotch said, and that seemed to set a spark of realization off in the room.

"He needs control, he's meticulous. If we just refuse to comply with the plan, he'll lose it. He definitely won't kill her, like we first thought. For him, everything must go according to plan. If we don't play by his rules, maybe he'll make a mistake.", he finished.

"One small problem. What if his other personality, or whatever the hell it is, takes over and kills her? Are we willing to take that chance?", JJ said.

There was a silence as everyone contemplated this for a moment before their Unit Chief spoke up.

"I don't think we have a choice, JJ."

* * *

><p><p>

Emily realized she felt cold.

She knew she shouldn't. The basement she has been trapped in was WARM – hot even.  
>She remembers sweating when she first got here.<p>

But now, she just felt cold. Her whole body was numb and she didn't whether it was from the unrelenting coldness she felt, or the fact that she had not moved a muscle since the last time he'd come in.

Her skin was now a deep shade of purple, and she found that she could not take deep breaths.

Trying to assess the damage, Emily noticed that she had not been cleaned up. The blood was still flowing from the open wounds, making a pool on the floor below her.

This was good. This means he hadn't come in yet.

She needed to be awake for that.

Now she just had to wait, and focus on not giving in to the blackness creeping up in the corners of her mind.

Anything and everything crossed her mind as she tried not to think about the pain. She thought about good memories, or, at least tried to. Somehow, she figured out she didn't have many. All the ones that were happy involved the team.

So she tried to visualize a night out with them, at their usual bar.

Rossi she knew, would've been reluctant to come along, making some excuse about a book signing or something of the sort. It would always take Garcia's powers of persuasion to get him to come with the profilers, but he would no doubt have a good time.

Hotch rarely did come out with them, and when he didn't, no one protested. He had Jack to come home to. But on the rare occasions that their boss did come, they would learn something new about him. Every time one of these evenings happened, all of them came closer to understanding the man behind the curtain, and what made him who he is today. Every time, their respect grew for him, and sometimes, he would even surprise the profilers.

JJ came along most nights, wanting, just like the rest of them, a break from serial killers and victims and grieving families. She was one to unwind, to completely cut loose, even just for one night. They would joke that JJ was the worst drunk – if no one was there with her she would no doubt hit on half the guys in the club and make a scene before leaving. They joked about it, but in reality they were all jealous of her ability to just make her worries disappear, no matter how much alcohol it took.

Garcia would be the one who organized everything – hacked everyone's computer's for their schedules, canceled any appointments, and then came, ever so innocently, to ask if they were free. She would be the life of the party – flirting with Morgan, gossiping with JJ, and even getting Reid out on the dance floor. No doubt, she was the heart of the team. She kept everyone together, and it was because of her that they had happy memories; that they considered themselves a family.

Reid; well, he would be reluctant. Make some excuse like he didn't like clubs, and hated dancing, but at the end of the day he would be there too, wanting to be a part of the family just as much, if not more, than the rest of them. He would sit, flinging useless information at them until Garcia pushed him out on the dance floor, where girls would undoubtedly pick him up. The team would watch with amazement as Reid dished out facts and trivia, which only seemed to amuse his tipsy companions more. Then, they would all be left wondering how he does it. But regardless, at the end of the night, he would always come back to his team, his family.

Morgan – well, they all knew he would be the first one to jump at Garcia's invitation. His evening would consist of a lot of drinks, heavy flirting with her and Garcia, some taunting of Reid, and dancing. Whenever Derek Morgan was on the dance floor, girls seemed to gravitate towards him like magnets. Ever quite the gentleman though, he always asked her and Garcia to join him. Garcia occasionally would oblige and go sweat it out for a couple songs, before coming back and declaring that she was 'done for the night'. Emily, however, never accepted. Just rolled her eyes and said some sarcastic remark.

Now, she kind of regrets that.

She laughs to herself as she realizes that she'd facing death, and the only regret she can come up with was that she never got to dance with Derek Morgan. It was just so painfully ironic.

Truth was, she had a lot of regrets – more than she could count.

But before she could think about that, the familiar sound of the door being opened fills the cellar.

Mentally, she prepares herself for what's to come. She tries to take a deep breath before deciding against it, and settles for just closing her eyes for a second.

She hears the footsteps and sees the familiar figure approach.

"Hello?", she says, testing the waters.

He says nothing as he gets closer, and she can just make out the rag in one hand, antiseptic in the other. She breathes a sigh of relief, as much as it hurts.

"What's your name?", she asks slowly, even though her split lip and dislocated jaw make it hard to even open her mouth.

He pours some of the antiseptic on the cloth before answering.

"Sam.", he says then, leaning towards her and pressing the rag to her forehead.

She winces slightly at the sting, but keeps quiet as he cleans the rest of her wounds.

She tries asking more questions, but each time he just ignores it, so soon enough she gives up, the pain of talking getting the best of her.

As he's almost finished, a voice comes from the door.

"What are you doing in there? Come here and stop being such a fucking prick Sam!"

A look of anger briefly crosses Sam's face as he finishes bandaging the gash on her arm.

She looks him straight in the eyes, knowing this might be her last shot.

"You don't always have to do what your brother says, you know. This is his battle. Let him fight it himself."

Sam looks confused for a moment, and then a look Emily can't place crosses his face before he closes the antiseptic bottle and walks out the door to another angry shout of "Sam, get out here!", coming from outside.

And she's left there, alone again, hoping she made a difference, and trying to conjure up more happy memories. God knows she would need them.

**[Please please please please review! It makes me so very happy! Comments, suggestions, constructive criticism, anything you'd like!]**


	6. Chapter 6

**[Oh my god, thank you for all your amazing reviews last chapter 3. I love all of you that reviewed!**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!]**

**EDIT: This chapter wasn't formatting right when I uploaded it, all the sections ran together. It must've been confusing to read, sorry! But I fixed it, or tried, at least... -_-**

"_Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." -_Albert Einstein

"You know what you've gotta do.", Hotch said, while Rossi put a supportive hand on Derek's shoulder.

Yes, he knew. Yes, they had explained it. None of that made it any easier though.

He had to refuse the UnSub's request, whatever it would be. No matter what he threatened to do to Emily. But he wouldn't kill her, the profile said that. They had to trust the profile.

_It's been wrong before_, Derek couldn't help thinking. Profiling was not an exact science. But it was the best they had.

The team was shuffling into Kevin's cramped office (if you could even call it that), for what felt like the hundredth time.

Collectively, the all held a breath as the 'answer' button was clicked by a very nervous looking Kevin.

Derek closed his eyes. He knew this would be bad even before he heard JJ's gasp and felt Rossi's hand on his shoulder again, as if anchoring him to reality.

So, slowly, he opened his eyes.

The UnSub wasn't in the shot. But Emily was. He took in a sharp breath when he saw her, trying to keep his composure.

She looked worse than after Cyrus. About five times worse.

She was so pale, her skin now had a blue undertone. There were bandages covering most of her face, all almost completely soaked with blood. He could tell by the way her breaths hitched in her chest, by the way she winced when she breathed, that she probably had a couple broken ribs too. Her body was completely still, except for her foot, which seemed to be tapping erratically against the floor. Her face though, that was what got him. She was looking in the camera, but at the same time, she wasn't. She was staring right past it, like it wasn't there at all.

As much as he tried not to think about it, the thought that she'd gone crazy had come to his mind. Torture, loneliness, constant pain – they could all make you lose your mind. And what had it been, 72 hours now? More? It was definitely a possibility. One he'd prefer not to think about.

Finally, the UnSub came into view. Stupid as it sounds, it took all of Derek's self-control not to beat the hell out of the computer screen.

He'd done this to Emily. To Derek's Emily; his partner, his best friend. He needed to pay. Derek swore he'd kill the bastard. There was no way this monster was getting a trial, probably sentenced to a mental hospital where he'd get a comfortable bed to sleep in, walks outside and 3 full meals a day. Not after what he did.

"Well, well, well. Have you made progress on my identity Derek?", came the cold voice.

Derek just glared, teeth clenched, at the screen.

"I didn't think so. You're lucky though, I have something else you can do for me, and I'll give you more time.", he paused. "And give her more time too. Doesn't look like she'd got too long left, does she?"

"What? What do you want?", Derek's words came quietly, almost as a whisper.

"Tell me you failed. Say that you're a failure as an Agent and as a partner. Say it."

He opened his mouth then, ready to give the UnSub what he wanted. To buy Emily some more time.

Then, he remembered what he had to do. What he had to say.

"No."

"Say it, or I swear to God she won't live through this call.", he said, pure determination in his eyes as he stared down the camera. This was like a challenge. It was like a game to him.

Derek just looked from Emily, still looking unfocused at the camera, foot tapping crazily against the floor, to the team, helpless look on his face.

Dave just looked at him sympathetically. JJ was turned away now. Reid gave him a helpless look right back, looking more like a lost puppy than an FBI agent.

Hotch held up a piece of paper saying 'I call his bluff'

This was it. The moment. Either Derek would give in and stop the monster from hurting his best friend, leaving them no closer to finding her than before; or he would refuse, and the UnSub would do God-knows-what to her, maybe giving something away. He had to make that choice. In fact, it was already made for him.

But in that moment, all of them knew he wouldn't follow it.

"No. He won't say it.", Hotch stepped in, sensing what was about to happen.

"Say it! Or she's dead! SAY HOW YOU'RE A FAILURE! YOU FAILED TO GET MY DAUGHTER, EVEN WHEN YOU PROMISED! NOW, YOU FAILED TO PROTECT YOUR PARTNER!"

"No.", Hotch said, stepping in front of Derek, who was shaking with rage now.

The UnSub then delivered a hit to Emily's stomach, and she cried out in pain.

Then the connection went black.

"Kevin?", Hotch said.

"I've got something, but it's really heavily encrypted, I don't think I can break it."

"I bet I know someone who can.", said JJ, wiping a tear from her cheek, glad to have something to do.

She walked out then, Reid and Rossi going with her, no doubt to narrow the ever-growing suspect pool.

"Hotch, what the hell was that?", Derek said, practically shouting.

"I saw you weren't going to do what was best, so I stepped in."

"You stepping in might've gotten her killed! IF HE – KI – DOES ANYTHING ELSE TO HER, IT'S ON YOU! That's my partner in there!"

"Morgan, do you think I don't care? One of my agents, my FRIENDS, is in there, suffering, of course I care! I just don't have time to whine about it because I'm damn focused on finding her! And I did what was best in the long run! We have more time, and now we know what we're looking for! She would've done the same thing.", he said, the last words coming quietly before he walked out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Derek was left there, head in his hands, thinking about how, somehow, all of this was his fault.

*CM*

JJ really didn't want to wake Garcia up, so she sighed in relief as she saw that the tech was already awake, sitting on the couch in her office.

"Hey.", she said quietly, careful not to startle her friend.

Garcia just looked over at her, her eyes glistening with tears, and shot JJ a tired smile. She just couldn't help but notice how fake the smile looked though. Penelope's normal smile was bright and bubbly, and would light up your whole day. Her eyes would twinkle and you just couldn't help but smile back. Usually. But now, her smile was forced, and it didn't quite reach her eyes. It didn't look like the Penelope Garcia JJ knew.

She shook that thought off and went to sit next to her friend on the couch, putting a supportive arm around her.

"Penelope, we need your help. Kevin said the IP address is encrypted and he can't figure it out... I totally understand if you're not up to it though, considering.", JJ gave Garcia a guilty look.

The tech brought her hands up to her face, wiping the tears away. She smoothed out her skirt and looked JJ in the eyes.

"No, I'm fine. Anything I can do to help."

JJ squeezed the other woman's hand supportively as she got up and sat at her computer.

The screens powered up then, and Garcia's hands sped across the keyboard. And just for a second, JJ forgot what had happened, what was still happening. For a second, it felt like a regular day.

Then the video that popped up on the main monitor dragged her back to reality, and she stood up and quietly walked towards the door, leaving the tech there to work.

Maybe because it felt wrong – intruding on someone's sadness. JJ could sit by her friend, tell her she knows, that she's sorry, that they'll find her. But it would all be bullshit. Because JJ didn't have a clue what it was like down there, what Penelope had gone through. Sorry; well, that didn't do shit, and she hated making empty promises.

So she thought it better not to say anything as she left, tears in her eyes again, hoping that she would be needed elsewhere. That she could do something, anything, to help.

*CM*

Emily was pretty sure the room was spinning.

A part of her was now totally convinced that she'd gone crazy, but another part was still desperately fighting, trying, to figure everything out.

But it just so happened that that rational part of her brain refused to work.

All she could think about was that this was it – this was her end. Going crazy in a cellar god-knows-where, dying at the hands of some psychopath who had a problem with her best friend.

The room started to go hazy now, going in and out of focus.

Maybe she was already dead, she thought. Yeah, maybe that was it.

Last time he'd beat her up, it hadn't even hurt. She'd just felt numb and closed her eyes.

She couldn't even remember if she'd followed through with her plan. She hoped she did, but now, she couldn't be sure.

She didn't even know how long it'd been since the last call. All the minutes, hours, seemed to blend together into an incomprehensible mess in her head.

All she could clearly remember was what she'd been repeating to herself the last couple days, what she'd put in a little box in her mind, hoping that no matter how crazy she went, she would never forget it.

It was three things.

Sam. She had to break Sam. She had to get him to stop helping his brother, to realize what he was doing.

No matter what, she couldn't give up. Derek would never forgive himself. Penelope would let the guilt eat her alive. She had to keep fighting, if not for herself then for her family.

They were coming to get her. The team would figure it out eventually – they always did.

She repeated this, almost like a mantra, in her head as the world started to fall apart. Focused on the words, like they were her anchor to reality as she tried to stay conscious.

_Break Sam, don't give up, the team is coming. _

_Break Sam, don't give up, the team is coming._

_Break Sam, don't give up, the team is coming._

Soon though, even those words seemed to sound like a jumbled mess.

As much as they lost meaning, as she couldn't bare to keep her eyes open, she said those words over and over, trying to find some grip of reality to hold on to as her mind threatened to go dark again.

*CM*

"Reid... Reid... REID.", JJ said, desperately trying to get the boy genius' attention.

"Huh?", he said, snapping back into reality.

"What about this guy?", she said, holding up a file.

"James Fahey, 38. His daughter, 10, was killed by a child molester in Wisconsin two years ago. Derek was the one who'd found her body. Lives right here in DC, works at a farm a couple towns over. One that has a cellar.", JJ said, looking hopeful.

Spencer scanned over the file in seconds, shaking his head.

"No, this guy had gotten angry at Morgan right away, our UnSub wouldn't have done that. He doesn't fit the profile."

JJ just let out an exasperated breath, tapping her foot against the floor while picking up another file.

"JJ.", Reid said, seeming entirely too focused on her foot.

"What?"

"Do that again. With your foot."

She barely had time to look at him, confused, or ask him what the hell he was talking about, and he was already out of his chair, hurrying into Garcia's office.

"Guys, I think I've got something.", he said down the hallway, causing all the profilers to follow him.

"Garcia, bring up the last video call."

The tech looked pretty confused too, but did as she was told.

"Now, cut the sound and zoom in on Emily's foot.", he said.

The team all looked at him questioningly, not understanding. Emily's foot was tapping against the floor and occasionally scraping against the chair. It looked random, erratic, maybe a little bit crazy even.

"Spencer, what's your point?", the Unit Chief said impatiently.

Before the young Agent could answer, however, someone else did.

"It's morse code. Emily's trying to tell us something."

**[So I know this chapter was a lot more different parts than usual, and a lot less Emily, but I wanted to show more of the team. Anyways, you know the drill! Reviews are appreciated, even if it's constructive criticism! Helps a lot :)]**


	7. Chapter 7

**[Here you go guys, I'm finally going to stop torturing you with who the UnSub is in this chapter!**

**This ones rated T for quite some language from Emily in the last part. Keep in mind that the last part of the chapter is Emily's thoughts, and that she'd pretty heavily drugged.**

**Enjoy!]**

"_Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it." _-Elizabeth Wurtzel

Before the young Agent could answer however, someone else did.

"It's morse code. Emily's trying to tell us something."

The team all just stared at Morgan, as if not expecting him to speak up. He almost made a joke about how Reid wasn't the only smart one on the team, how he knew things too. But then he remembered the situation, and suddenly he wasn't in the mood for joking anymore.

"What is she trying to say? Reid?", Hotch said, and all eyes immediately turned on the genius.

The young Agent held up his hand in a 'shush' motion inches from Hotch's face. Derek couldn't help thinking that if anyone else had done this, they would've certainly gotten fired, in the least. But Spencer Reid wasn't just anyone.

After a minute or so of silence, everyone staring either at Emily's foot, or Reid's concentrated expression, the genius finally had an answer.

"Jessie Evanson.", Reid said, turning his head towards Morgan, guilt written all over his face. He knew the name – but that wasn't surprising. After all, a genius never forgot a name. And he remembered, which only made it worse. Because in reality, all of this, was his fault too. Maybe even more so than Derek's.

Reid saw Morgan give a blank look, signaling he didn't remember. No one expected him to, after all. They lost people every day; it was just a part of the job. But every person that died on your watch, everyone you failed to save would haunt you, would take a piece of you with them when they died, until you had nothing left to give. That's why, Reid was sure Derek would remember her face. So he said nothing as Hotch spoke up.

"Garcia?"

The tech responded with a nod.

There was a moment of silence, the only thing heard were the tap of computer keys.

"Oh.", came the whisper of realization from Penelope as she looked at the result in the screen.

"Jessie Evanson, 15, deceased. She died in the explosion at the compound in Colorado. The Cyrus case. Her mother, Kathy, committed suicide not long after."

There was a silence in the room as realization crept up on all of them.

"Who's her father?", JJ said, somehow desperately trying to be the rational one. Someone had to be, and it seemed Hotch had lost all ability to speak after seeing the result that popped up on the screen after Garcia's search.

Another couple seconds, some tapping of the keyboard.

"I – I don't know. There is no birth certificate on this girl, only a death certificate. But I can make some calls, get her DNA run through the system?", she said, feeling useless once again.

JJ just nodded as Garcia picked up her phone, already dialing. She couldn't help it as her mind drifted to Jessie. It was so incredibly sad. She'd lived 15 years on this Earth, and the only trace, the only mark she'd left was a death certificate and an autopsy report.

* * *

><p><p>

Rossi had somehow forced himself out of that room and went searching for Derek, who'd disappeared somewhere in the commotion.

He found him, sitting at his desk in the bullpen, eyes firmly glued to Emily's desk.

Before Dave could say anything however, Morgan did.

"This is all because of me. I promised that girl's mom I would get her out, and I didn't."

Rossi just sighed at that. There wasn't much to say. There was nothing he COULD say to make his friend feel better. He could tell Derek that he had tried his best, but Rossi knew damn well that wouldn't do him any good. So he settled for the truth.

"You can't save everyone Derek."

The other man looked up at him, and Rossi was sure he saw his eyes water slightly.

"But now Emily's paying for my mistake."

Dave couldn't deny that.

The only thing he could think of to say, the only thing he could give Derek, was hope.

"We're gonna find her.", he said, silently reciting a prayer, hoping to God that he was right.

* * *

><p><p>

"Drink.", he said, somewhat robotically as he harshly held the water up to Emily's mouth.

She did as he said, still cringing at the pain in her jaw as she opened her mouth.

She had to admit though, her mind was much clearer now, the pain much less. Must've been the pills they forced down her throat.

They wanted her alive for something, Emily thought, trying not to imagine the worst.

"You know he's just using you Sam.", she said as he looked away.

"Shut up.", Sam muttered in response.

She knew she had to keep pushing. He wouldn't hit her, not unless his brother came back. This was her chance.

"You know it too. You should just stand up to him, I bet you could take him.", her words came slowly and carefully, like she was talking to a child.

He looked up slightly at that boost of confidence, and she felt a spark of hope go off inside her.

"All you have to do, Sam, you just have to ruin his plan. Just go to the police. That'll show him that you're just as much of a man as he is."

There was an array of emotions on his face then, determination one of them, until finally settling into sadness.

"I can't.", he said quietly, looking down at his feet, almost like a child who'd done something wrong.

"Sam, why not? He just pushes you around.", Emily said, trying desperately to get that determination back into the man's eyes.

"He's my brother.", Sam responded, looking up at her with the same kind of robotic intensity he had when he walked in.

And that's where she knew she'd lost him.

"Eat.", he said, bringing a piece of stale bread up to her mouth.

She did as she was told, because, god help her, she didn't need more injuries. And that's why he didn't notice the needle Sam injected into her already broken arm.

* * *

><p><p>

Penelope Garcia was strong once.

Despite what everyone thought, there had been a time where she swallowed her feelings, pretended nothing and no one effected her.

There'd been a time, once, in a hospital waiting room, where she'd been strong. Well, at least to others, she bet it would've looked like it. They probably would have looked at her with pride and respect for being do together, so composed. But in reality, the strength, all it was was glorified hiding.

She realized this, she remembered, sitting there in the hospital waiting room, only eighteen, being told that the two most important people in her life had just died. And, sitting there, nodding numbly, spitting out 'I'm fine's and 'I understand's; that had been her breaking point.

There was a time that Penelope Garcia was strong.

But in the long run, she'd decided that being strong wasn't always the best thing. Once in a while, you had to cry. You had to let your emotions take control and just let it out.

Because if you hid too long, she concluded, you would lose yourself.

So now, Penelope cried. She cried for the victims who didn't make it, the families who had to suffer, and, she cried for her team, who had to carry the burden of not saving everyone.

That's what she thought about as she cried for Emily.

She'd called the lab, put in a rush order. She'd done an extensive anything-and-everything search on Jessie, but all it got her was nothing. Soon, she'd done everything she could do.

That's when she let herself break down.

The tears came; tears of guilt, of sadness, of grief. She didn't know quite what she was grieving for, considering Emily was still (hopefully) alive, but it hurt, all the same.

Penelope was sure it hadn't even been five minutes when the familiar sound of her door being opened filled the room. She found herself flinching, involuntarily.

God, was she never going to be able to hear a door opened again? She was already dreading sleep, even though she so much needed it. She dreaded the nightmares, which she was sure would come. The only thing still keeping her awake were the 4 cups of coffee she had, and determination to find Emily.

"Hey bella.", came Rossi's deep voice.

Penelope was surprised. Obviously, he'd been sent to check on her. But that was usually Derek's job. She guessed she had enough of his own demons to deal with. The truth was, she didn't much want to see him. She didn't want to see anyone.

Penelope just managed to give a muffled 'hi', trying to stop the tears.

"Come on, I'll get you home, you need some sleep that doesn't involve a four foot couch.", he said, smiling slightly.

"No, I'm fine..." He gave her a disapproving look.

"I.. I just can't.", she said then, and his eyes filled with understanding. He knew what that was like.

"At least let me drive you home to get some new clothes and change."

She looked down at what she was wearing, suddenly realizing it wasn't hers. Huh, how hadn't she noticed before? She'd showered here, and now she was wearing a gray FBI sweatshirt and large black sweatpants, which she assumed were Derek's.

Sensing her hesitation, Rossi added "There's nothing we can do for her right now."

Garcia reluctantly nodded and rose from her chair.

Thinking about her closet back home, she was convinced she'd have to throw away all the khaki and plaid she owned, since that's all **he**'d ever seemed to wear. Except that once.

She stopped dead in her tracks, ignoring Rossi's worried questions. Closing her eyes, she tried to go over it in her mind. Damn, how could she have missed this before?

"He was wearing different clothes.", she muttered, low enough that Rossi didn't hear.

"What?"

"The UnSub. He was wearing different clothes.", she said louder, as if this had any significance to the profiler. He was still looking at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Get the team in the conference room.", she said, one hand already reaching for her computers.

Rossi stood there for a second before she shooed him away, and then went to go do what he was told. Because, for the first time in years, David Rossi had no idea what was going on.

* * *

><p><p>

What if this was crazy?, she found herself thinking.

This could very well be the fucking definition of insanity.

Emily had been staring at the blank wall across from her god-knows how long.

Her eyes, she was sure, had bore holes into the damned thing. Soon enough, she found herself wishing someone would come in, or that she would pass out again.

Sam, Bobby,she didn't care. She wouldn't mind getting a beating again, she just wanted to feel something NORMAL.

Holy shit. This was it.

If they ever found her, she would be labeled insane. She would be put in a mental hospital and she would spend the rest of her days in sterile white rooms and taking pills by the cup-full.

Fuck, fuck,_ fuck._

Emily tried to deny it, she closed her eyes, attempting to sleep. But soon enough, her eyes would slip open and she would find herself staring at the goddamn wall again.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was – she was starting to see things.

The wall would flash different colors, and once she swore, she saw her mother, Ambassador Prentiss in the flesh, standing there before her.

Shit.

She just wanted something to make sense – she just didn't want to go crazy, but she was afraid it was too late.

Holy shit, the wall was moving now. _Why the hell is the wall moving?_

She shut her eyes tight, humming some song she vaguely remembered, hoping it would drown out the sound of the buzzing in her ears.

But no, the damn thing just got LOUDER.

Emily raised her voice too, to the point where she was screaming, trying to get the sound to go away.

_SHIT._

Somehow, Emily Prentiss had ended up exactly like the people she spent her life trying to catch. Crazy.

The only comforting thing that came to her mind, was how much this would fuck over her mother's reputation. Ambassador's daughter went crazy - Emily could practically see her mom's face.

She almost smiled, but she opened her eyes to an orange cat sitting calmly against the wall, and she remembered a million reasons not to.

_Emily Prentiss was going fucking insane._

**[If you didn't see Minimal Loss, you'll be pretty lost, so go watch it! It's an amazing episode too, one of my favorites :)**

**Anyway, please please please review, honestly, it means so much. To see that people are actually reading this and like it gives me so much inspiration :D]**


	8. Chapter 8

**[Sorry, kind of a slow update for me, but I write as I go and I didn't have much time this week.**

**Anyways, enjoy!]**

"_You only live twice. Once when you are born and once when you look death in the face." _- Ian Fleming

"Twins.", JJ breathed out. It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Twins.", confirmed Garcia, still not looking away from the computer monitor. "Look, I know it sounds really cliché, but it makes sense."

"Statistically, 84% of identical twins have one alpha and one submissive twin.", Reid pitched in, and the team took that as a sign of agreement.

"Garcia-", Hotch started.

"Already on it sir.", the tech said, and the team couldn't help noticing that she'd gotten her usual pep back, even just a little.

Her fingers sped across the keyboard as Derek's hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked up, just for a second, but never stopped typing.

"Thank you Baby girl.", he almost-whispered in her ear, and Penelope was sure it was the truest thing she'd ever heard him say.

Before she could respond, a flashing red window popped up on her screen, signaling that she had a result.

"Robert and Samuel Tanner, age 36, identical twins. Robert works as a contractor, lives in Newport, as of about two years ago. He looks good for Jessie's father, but the DNA is being checked as we speak."

"What about the brother?", Rossi asked.

"There's almost no information on him, he's like a ghost! The only thing I have is a little plot of land left to him by his father in Fairfax."

Hotch and Morgan exchanged a look then. This was their place, they were sure. Now, all Hotch had to do was call the shots.

He seemed to hesitate for a second, which was incredibly rare for SSA Aaron Hotchner. He knew Derek was too emotionally involved – he knew he would beat the crap out of the UnSub if they caught him. But Aaron couldn't tell him no. He couldn't tell him he couldn't save his best friend. So he made a decision, one he knew he might regret.

"Morgan, JJ, you're with me. Reid, Rossi, see what else you can get on the profile. Good work Garcia."

Penelope barely had time to say 'thank you sir' before the three Agents were out of the room, no doubt already getting strapped into their Kevlar.

And, again, Penelope found herself praying, and crying.

This was how it was every time.

They would be out there, risking their lives, trying to save people, not giving a damn about their own safety; and she would be here, doing everything she could. But in the end, after she had done absolutely everything, the only thing left to do would be pray and cry.

* * *

><p><p>

"Get up!", came a shout and a tug to her hair as Emily just managed to open her eyes.

A yelp escaped her lips as he roughly pulled her out of the chair by her hair.

Her whole body was numb, and she found that even opening her eyes seemed to take all the energy she had. Hey, at least she wasn't seeing things anymore.

She attempted to ask some smart-ass question about where the hell they were taking her, but somehow it ended up sounding like a jumbled mess.

Bobby, she assumed, pulled her hair and practically dragged her across the floor, ignoring her mumbling.

All of a sudden she saw the glinting blade of a knife in his hand, and she couldn't help thinking that this was it.

She was going to die, right there.

Her mind told her that he wouldn't, that the profile didn't say that, that he had to get Derek to figure out who he was first, but it all didn't matter at that moment.

Because, she guessed, when you have a knife being held against your throat, all rationale and all the carefully-made plans get thrown out the window.

When you're facing death, she concluded, all you can think about is your impending doom.

But in a second, a smile crossed his face and the knife was moved away, up to her hair, which he was still holding with one hand.

Suddenly, the pull on her head released, and a chunk of her hair flew down, making a black pool on the concrete floor.

And then she was being pulled up again, this time by her arm. She guessed there wasn't enough hair to hold on to.

Emily's eyes started drifting closed again, maybe as the adrenaline wore off. But as soon as they hit the top of the stairs, her eyes snapped open. Because the wind hit her face, and she was convinced it was the best thing she'd ever felt.

After god-knows how long of being stuck in that cellar, the smell of air and fresh grass, the feel of the wind on her face felt like heaven. She was convinced that if she made it out of this alive, she would never take wind for granted.

But soon the wind was gone, and replaced with a rough scratchy fabric and the overwhelming smell of cigarettes as she got pushed into the back of a van.

Duct tape was wrapped around her arms, still bleeding from the restraints she had on before, and over her mouth.

Van doors slammed, and again, she wondered where the HELL they were taking her.

"How the fuck did they make us Sam?", came from the front seat.

There was a muffled 'I dunno' as the car pulled harshly out of the driveway.

Emily felt her body roll to the back of the van and slam against the doors, pretty hard too. But she didn't feel it, not a thing.

"God, I bet you screwed up, that's how that tech girl nailed us!", Bobby almost-shouted again.

Emily felt a spark of hope go off within her.

The team had figured it out. They were coming. She wasn't going to die.

That hope all but disappeared though as she realized that her team was heading exactly to the place where she was now headed away from.

She just couldn't win, could she?

* * *

><p><p>

"So this is most definitely our UnSub then.", Rossi said, looking at the lines and lines of writing and notes Reid had just finished taking on the board.

"Yes, he fits the profile."

Dave was in the middle of dialing Hotch's familiar number when a stern voice interrupted him.

"Agent Rossi. Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Looking up, he found himself looking directly into the eyes of Erin Strauss.

He gave a curt nod and followed her into his office.

"Are you making any progress on Agent Prentiss' kidnapping?", she said, clearly not wasting any time.

"We've got a prime suspect and the rest of the team is on their way to a possible location now.", he said, hate lining his tone.

"Good, because this is your team's last chance. You've had more than four days now, and I think you're all too emotionally involved. Pass that along to Agent Hotchner.", she said, before practically turning on her heels and walking away.

"Yes ma'am.", Rossi found himself saying.

It was a 'ma'am' that Emily would've been proud of, he couldn't help thinking.

She hated Strauss, because she hated politics, and Strauss was just that. The woman was the definition of politics and distrust.

The thought of Emily brought a new wave of guilt and sadness, and he shook his head as he walked back to where Reid was standing in the bullpen.

"I don't understand.", Reid said quietly, scanning the board with his eyes.

"What?"

"Bobby had not been in contact with his daughter for most of her life, we're not sure if he'd ever even seen her, and yet he's so determined to get revenge for her death. It doesn't make sense."

It made sense to Rossi.

Because if there was one thing that the genius didn't understand, that was love. And that was exactly what this was.

"It does make sense. Reid, it doesn't matter if you don't see your child for months or years, or ever, they're still your child and you never stop loving them or wanting to protect them."

* * *

><p><p>

"Morgan, with me. JJ, you go around back. Back-up will be here soon."

JJ nodded and promptly made her way behind the rotting old house. If you could even call it that. It was more like a shack; paint peeling, doors practically off the hinges.

The door was open, so she stepped inside, somehow already knowing it would be empty.

What they needed to check was the cellar. That's where they were keeping Emily. But no, protocol was protocol.

"Clear!", she called out to the front, where Morgan was standing above the cellar door.

Hotch looked over to him, giving a small nod of approval.

The door was opened then, and they all found themselves looking at a narrow set of stairs.

They went down them, careful not to make a sound.

At the bottom of the stairs was a small landing, so small that even getting all three of them to fit in it at the same time was a challenge. On one side of it, however, was a metal door with a deadbolt on it.

But the deadbolt was unlocked; the door was ajar.

That was the first sign that something was wrong.

With a small uneasy nod of agreement between them, they opened the door quietly and went inside, guns drawn.

**[Hate to leave it there guys, but hopefully I'll have the next chapter up pretty soon.**

**What do you think? Reviews are appreciated :)]**


	9. Chapter 9

**[Here you go, I'm thinking two or three more chapters and it'll be done! Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

**Happy Thanksgiving to all of you in the US(:]**

"_Hell is empty and all the devils are here." - _William Shakespeare

They went inside, guns drawn.

The room seemed to be exactly like Garcia had described it. Except Emily was nowhere to be found.

JJ heard a bang, which she was sure to be Morgan's fist slamming against something. Well, she couldn't blame him. To be honest, she felt like punching something herself. They had gotten _this_ close to finding her.

With a shaky sigh, she looked over to the only things in the room. Two chairs, bolted to the floor, and a computer. The laptop seemed to be in pretty bad shape, but maybe Garcia could get something off of it.

"Hey, Morgan?", she said, almost out of instinct. It was him who would always call Penelope.

She was met with silence.

"Morgan?", she turned around, finding him kneeling on the other side of the room, his back to her.

Slowly walking over, she saw what he was staring at and her mouth dropped open, just a little, before she caught herself.

Derek just looked up, glossy-eyed, and gave her the most helpless look she'd ever seen. She was sure she'd never seen someone more broken. This was tearing him apart.

"JJ, what've you got?", Hotch returned from making his round of phone calls.

"It's E-", JJ started, but found it best not to say her friend's name out loud. She was sure she would lose it if she did. "Uh, her hair. Looks like he cut it off, maybe as a warning?"

Hotch walked over, and looked at the jet-black hair in a pool on the ground, and then at Derek, who was staring at it again.

Their unit chief didn't seem like he would respond, so JJ broke the silence.

"And, uh, the computer. Garcia might be able to get something off of it.", she nodded in the direction of the mangled laptop.

And at that, Morgan was gone.

He just threw his hands up in the air and stormed out, much like in the conference room almost three days ago.

JJ heard the rumble of trucks pull up, and she guessed it must be the CSU.

She was just gathering her friends dark hair into an evidence bag when she heard shouting from outside.

"No, wait, stop!", Derek's low voice sounded unusually threatening, so all of the trucks immediately came to a halt in front of the driveway, inches away from where he was standing.

"God, Morgan, what the hell?", JJ yelled, jogging up to meet him.

He turned towards her, pointing at the ground.

"Tire tracks."

* * *

><p><p>

"Garcia, I'm sending you pictures right now, you need to tell me what car tires would've made these patterns.", Hotch's voice came from the phone.

"You got it sir.", she just managed to respond before clicking the off button and taking a deep breath.

She didn't bother saying that she wasn't sure she even could do that, much less that it was probably a common tire, so it wouldn't help their search. It was worth a try. She owed it to Emily to try.

So that's what she thought about as she submitted the picture into the database, waiting impatiently for the program to finish.

They just needed to know what car they had Emily in. If only she'd remembered more about the the van, they would be able to find her. Garcia cursed herself for not being as observant as a profiler. Morgan, or Rossi, or even JJ would've noticed more about the car. And then they would be able to find her.

_If she's even alive,_a voice in the back of her mind said, and she pushed it away. Emily just had to be alive. She couldn't be dead.

But the reality was, she very well could. The UnSubs could've freaked out and left in a hurry, killing her, dumping her in a ditch somewhere.

A sob escaped her lips as she realized how big of a possibility that was.

Soon, her whole body was shaking with sobs.

Garcia heard a throat being cleared in her doorway, and looked over to see a very uncomfortable Reid standing there, looking at his feet.

"C- come in.", she reached for a tissue.

"What's wrong?", he said, looking even more uncomfortable than before.

_Everything, _she wanted to shout. God, what wasn't wrong? They couldn't find Emily, who was suffering through god-knows what. Derek was slowly falling apart. Strauss was giving them all hell for not finding their agent. Hotch was stressed, JJ was at her breaking point. The only thing that seemed not to be wrong was the genius himself. He was smart and normal as ever.

She almost, almost said all this, but decided not to. He meant well, after all. So she asked the one thing she knew he would know.

"Listen,w-what's the probability that they've k-killed her?"

His face seemed to soften at that, and he opened his mouth for a second, as if not knowing what to say. Then, he responded.

"Garcia, they left her hair. I don't think they would do that if they were going to kill her, besides we can't think about that right now, we've-"

That was her breaking point.

"Reid! I don't need reassurance and guesses! God, every day you spit out probabilities and random facts when no one asks or needs them, and today, the ONE DAY that I want you to give me a simple number, a percent, you decide to be a regular empathetic human being!", she practically screamed before breaking into sobs again on his shoulder.

Reid just sat, not sure what to do, holding Garcia in his arms.

He contemplated leaving, going back to help Rossi. But Spencer Reid was very rational. And the most rational thing to do right now, the one that would help the most, was comforting Penelope so that she could help the team.

So Reid stayed until her crying subsided and turned into sniffling and she leaned away, the only thing left was a big water stain on his shirt where her head had been.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a flashing window on the computer screen.

The tech turned, faster than was humanly possible towards the computer monitor.

"Oh my god, call Hotch. Tell him I've got something BIG.", she said, tears already seemingly forgotten.

Emily's head hurt like hell.

She wasn't sure how long they'd been driving; it couldn't have been more than an hour, but already she was sure she had bruises from slamming against the back of the van every time Bobby slammed on the breaks. And he was quite the aggressive driver.

To add to that, she was almost positive she had a concussion. Either that, or just a KILLER headache.

That's why she was somewhat relieved when they stopped at a gas station.

"Tie her hands to the door Sam, I'm tired of her rolling around like a dead weight back there.", he said before the door slammed.

Sam, as ever, did as he was told.

He opened the back doors to the van, and Emily got to feel the wind on her face again. And, sadly, see the seemingly deserted rest stop they were at.

Sam pulled her roughly up and produced a pocketknife, cutting the duct tape around her arms.

"Ow, watch it.", Emily said as he drew blood. But, her hands were finally free.

The pocketknife tumbled to the ground and Sam bent to pick it up.

This was Emily's chance, she realized. Her hands were free, he was off-guard, and it was one-against-one.

Sam's head barely came all the way up before Emily's knee was in his crotch.

He doubled over in pain as she delivered another blow, to his face this time. At least she hadn't forgotten how to fight.

A stomp on his foot and the pocketknife was in her hand.

And then, a hand had grabbed her and pushed her back into the van.

SHIT, Bobby.

He forced the knife out of her hand, and somehow, in the struggle, the knife ended up protruding at an odd angle out of her shoulder.

She let out a yelp of pain as she tumbled back onto the scratchy van floor.

"Bitch!", Bobby spit, tying her hands up again, seeming not to even care about her open wound, just taking his knife out and closing the door, leaving her there to bleed.

Emily heard shouts, and what sounded like muffled slaps coming from outside before they both finally got back in the car.

She looked down at the wound on her shoulder, and the blood pooling on the crappy carpet.

Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the team again.

Anything to get her out of this hell, out of this nightmare.

"The tire patterns match the tires for a 1966 model Dodge van, according to Garcia. I already put a BOLO out. What have you got?", Hotch said, approaching JJ, probably knowing Morgan wasn't in the state to talk.

"It looks like they took a lot of the computer equipment with them, but they left in a hurry. Must've known we were getting close."

Hotch nodded his understanding, looking over to the cellar, now swarming with CSIs.

Strauss' words kept echoing in his mind. She was disappointed in him, not that he cared much about her opinion. But he was disappointed with himself too. What kind of Unit Chief, what kind of leader, was he, if he couldn't get his agent back in almost five whole days?

And now, he was standing here, doing nothing. His team was a mess, his technical analyst was probably suffering from PTSD, and he was falling apart.

But one thing Aaron Hotchner didn't do, was give up. They wouldn't give up until they found her, of that he was sure.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket and he flipped it open with his normal greeting of "Hotchner."

Hearing what was on the other end of the call, he motioned to JJ and started moving towards the SUV, where Morgan was standing.

"Block the roads, and we'll be there in twenty.", he said into the receiver as he got into the driver's seat promptly, his agents right behind him.

"We've got a sighting of our car, rest stop, twenty minutes away. Rossi and Reid are meeting us there.", he said, and the hope that flashed on Morgan's face almost gave him hope too. Almost.

**[Just so you know;**

**CSU: Crime Scene Unit**

**BOLO: Be on the Lookout**

**PTSD: Post-traumatic Stress Disorder**

**CSI: Crime Scene Investigator**

**Reviews make my day ;D]**


	10. Chapter 10

**[Two more chapters guys :)**

**Enjoy!]**

"_A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it."_ -Oscar Wilde

The phone call, even though they were expecting it, seemed to startle them both.

Reid's eyes shot up from the file he was looking at in an instant, and Rossi's hand was on the phone before the first ring was even done.

Dave didn't say anything when he picked up the phone, he just nodded. Reid's frustration grew because he didn't know what was on the other line. Rossi seemed to be having no reaction; he was too good. Spencer couldn't read his micro-expressions.

Reid's foot tapping became faster as Rossi hung up the phone, already moving towards the door.

"They've got a sighting of the car.", he just said.

The words were simple, they were the blatant truth, no hopes, no excitement. But they both knew that those words meant everything. They meant hope, happiness, and maybe the chance to redeem themselves.

Reid just nodded in response, and Rossi took that action, and the little sparkle that had settled into the young genius' eyes as a good sign.

"We should tell Garcia.", Reid said after a moment of silence, their feet moving rapidly towards the elevator.

Dave didn't say anything, instead taking a detour to Garcia's dark office, his pace only getting brisker.

She looked up from her computer, hope in her eyes. But it wasn't happiness, not yet. It was like she was asking for permission.

"Got a sighting of our car.", Rossi said, and it seemed like that was all that needed to be said.

Penelope got up and out of her seat. She was wearing different clothes now; a white button-up shirt and a navy skirt. Reid, of course, noticed how devoid of color she was. Her hair, too, was settled into a tame ponytail in the back of her head. It didn't look like the Garcia he knew, and that scared him.

"I'm coming.", she said, her voice wavering, just a little.

Rossi nodded. He didn't know why; it was totally against protocol. Maybe it was because he didn't need to have an argument with her and waste time, when they could be saving Emily. Maybe it was because he didn't WANT to. She'd been there too, she deserved to go see this guy caught. She deserved to be there when they found Emily. Or maybe he'd approved because he knew he couldn't win the argument that was sure to be started by him saying no.

Either way, he had nodded. So now the three of them were walking down to their government-issued SUV, strapping on their Kevlar, and heading out to hopefully get Emily back.

* * *

><p><p>

There was a ring of cars around a small patch of abandoned highway. It must've looked pretty funny, to someone who didn't know what was going on.

Their black SUV pulled up into the circle, the three agents observing the old van that was in the middle.

"What's our status?", Hotch said, already approaching the policemen having their gun trained on the car.

"We've got snipers in place, but we haven't made contact. Wanted to wait for you.", one said, signaling with his head to an abandoned building to the right of the road.

"Have you confirmed Agent Prentiss?", Aaron said, seeming to choke on her name a little.

"No, we can't see her.", he responded, disappointment in his voice.

Hotch nodded and walked over to JJ and Morgan, who were ready to go. Morgan seemed to be bursting at the seams to get to the car and get his partner out.

The sheriff walked by, handing Hotch a megaphone and giving him a supportive nod.

Hotch seemed to contemplate it for a second before handing the object over to Morgan. He had to be the one to do this, he had to be the one to save her. And, he had the best chance of getting into the UnSub's head.

"Robert and Samuel Tanner, come out with your hands behind your heads.", his voice echoed through the street. It was the only noise you heard, until the shuffling in the van began.

Everyone's guns seemed to cock at the same exact moment, waiting for any sign of danger to come.

The door opened with a deadening click and one tan boot stepped out of the driver's side. The UnSub emerged, looking exactly like he had on the video calls.

"Hands up!", Morgan said, looking over to Hotch for some idea which one of the twins it was. Hotch gave a blank look, JJ did the same.

A second later, the mystery was solved. The back door to the van opened, and Emily was dragged out by her neck by what Derek assumed to be Bobby.

His blood boiled at seeing Emily. She was even paler than before, her bruises purple, the bandages falling off. There was a new wound too – a bleeding shoulder, which seemed to be making her weaker by the minute.

"Derek, Derek. I thought we'd be meeting soon.", his voice came, and the Agents were sure this was their guy.

Bobby stepped down onto the concrete, his elbow firmly wrapped around Emily's neck.

"Bobby. This isn't going to end well for you.", Derek said, attempting to get the anger out of his voice.

There was a moment of silence, everyone's guns trailed at Bobby. All of a sudden, shots rang out as Sam moved for the car and produced a gun from under the seat.

"Sam, you don't wanna do that.", Derek warned, watching as the man looked helplessly from his brother to the police, holding the gun in his trembling hands.

"S- Sam, don't.", Emily's voice came. It was weaker than Derek expected. It seemed like it took all her strength to just get the words out.

"Sam.", Bobby said, his voice louder; a warning.

And Sam threw the gun. His final act of betrayal, final sacrifice for his brother. Because at that moment a shot was fired and Sam was in a pool of blood on the floor.

Bobby didn't even flinch. He just caught the gun expertly and pressed it to Emily's temple, smiling a wicked smile.

* * *

><p><p>

"Bobby, you know this isn't gonna end well for you.", Morgan said, inching closer to Emily.

Bobby shifted, putting her right in the line of fire and tightened his grip around her neck.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I _care_, Derek? I have nothing to live for anymore. My Jessie, my baby girl; you let her die! And then Kathy killed herself because she couldn't live with the guilt, but you can, can't you? You can deal with letting a 15 year old girl die ON YOUR WATCH?"

Morgan breathed out, keeping his focus on his partner. He had to keep his head in the game; he had to save her. All he had to do was get the UnSub distracted.

"Jessie pushed that button herself; she made that decision! And you very well know that!", Morgan countered, raising his voice.

Bobby flinched slightly, pressing the barrel of the gun deeper into Emily's head.

"I lost the most important person in my life, and now you're gonna lose yours. Say bye-bye princess!"

he turned the safety off, placing Emily's body firmly in front of him, gun digging into her hair.

"How about your brother?", Morgan practically shouted, stalling for more time.

That's all they needed; more time. Time for the snipers to get a clear shot. Derek just hoped Emily could hold on that long. Her eyes were already slowly fluttering closed, and he prayed to god that she wouldn't give up.

"What?", Bobby practically spat, glancing over to Sam's body on the pavement.

"He died for you, Bobby. Wouldn't he want you to live?"

He looked down, seeming to loosen his grip on the gun, just a little.

"Don't do this. This isn't what Jessie would've wanted.", Derek said.

Bobby's head snapped up.

"You.. don't know anything! YOU DIDN'T KNOW HER, YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WOULD'VE WANTED! YOU KILLED HER!"

Bobby was furious. That's why he didn't notice another black SUV pulling up a few feet behind him, the doors slamming shut.

He didn't notice the approaching footsteps, and JJ's small nod to Emily.

"You have to put the-", Derek started calmly. And then, two gunshots, seconds apart, rang out.

They seemed to echo through the street as Emily and Bobby fell to the floor in a heap of bodies and blood.

**[I'm evil for leaving it there, I know, but I have to add some suspense don't I?**

**And don't worry, I'm aiming for a happy ending.**

**Review, please? They mean so much]**


	11. Chapter 11

**[So this chapter's a bit different. It has the same scene, just in every member of the team's point of view. Derek's first.**

**Enjoy:)]**

"_Man's last freedom is his freedom to choose how he will react in any given situation"_-Viktor Frankl

There was a moment of deadening silence after the gunshots.

Sure, it was probably ten seconds, but to Derek, it seemed like an eternity. It seemed like the whole world was moving in slow motion as he watched Emily fall to the ground, Bobby landing harshly on top of her. There was so much blood and mangled bodies that he couldn't tell who'd been shot. And that scared him the most.

The same thought ran through his mind. _No, Emily, oh god no._

For those ten seconds, he just stood there, gun in hand, as people started moving around him.

Derek willed his feet to move; to carry him towards the bodies on the pavement, but they wouldn't budge.

He was terrified of what he would see.

There had been _two_ gunshots. One could've very well hurt his partner.

Suddenly, he found himself running towards her. All he heard were his feet pounding against the pavement and the rapid beating of his own heart.

He found himself pulling Bobby's body away, checking for a pulse. There was none, of course. It had been a clean head shot. The bastard hadn't stood a chance.

Turning his attention back to Emily, he found her covered with blood. His breath hitched in his chest and he seemed to freeze again for a moment. But then the realization came that the blood might not be hers, so he reached for her pulse with a shaky hand.

It was there. Some part of him wanted to shout, wanted to celebrate, wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her how sorry he was.

But the rational part took over and he found himself calling for EMT's and pulling her into his lap lightly, pressing down on her wound.

Derek ran his hand through her hair, which was chopped unevenly under her ears, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before the the medics pulled her away.

Then he stood there, covered in her blood, watching the scene unfold around him.

And it seemed that all he could do was breathe. Finally, for the first time in five days, Derek Morgan could breathe.

CM

Dave had pulled the trigger. So had Bobby.

No one was sure who'd shot first. Even Dave.

That's why he stood there, just as helpless as everybody else, watching as Emily tumbled to the ground.

He was not at all sure if his shot had hit Bobby or Emily. He wasn't sure if Emily was even hurt.

_Dave just wasn't damn sure of anything._

He watched with trembling hands as Derek ran over to the bloody mess in the middle of the road.

If it was his shot, his bullet, that had hurt her, he didn't know what he would do. He took a steadying breath as Derek pulled the dead body off of Emily, suddenly feeling thirty years younger.

Feeling like when he'd first started at the BAU, and every case was hand-trembling, self-doubting and overwhelming guilt. When he'd been so eager to prove himself he would do anything just to have something be not his fault.

David Rossi hadn't felt like that in a long time.

He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding when he saw Morgan move Emily onto his lap and press a kiss to her forehead.

_She was okay._

He let the CSI pry the gun carefully out of his rigid hands, and said a prayer as he watched the ambulance drive away.

~CM~

Hotch had seen the black SUV pull up behind their UnSub.

He had silently let out a breath of relief when Bobby didn't notice the vehicle approach and the three people step out.

Now, it would be easy, he tried to convince himself. But if being Unit Chief for eight years had taught him anything, it was that nothing was ever easy; not with this job.

Hotch had seen Dave raise his gun, he'd seen Bobby lash out at Derek.

The gunshots were almost in the same second, and both Bobby and his hostage had fallen to the floor.

_No_. This couldn't be happening. They were so close to saving her. She had to be okay.

Immediately, he started towards the bodies, mentally preparing himself for the possible outcomes. But as much as he thought about it, he couldn't wrap his mind around Emily ever being gone.

Suddenly, Morgan's sprinting figure cut him off.

Hotch just stood there for a second, before realizing he had to go. He was the boss, he had things to take care of. He had people to direct, calls to make.

So he turned around, taking one look back behind him, seeing Morgan pull Emily's unconscious form onto him, smiling.

Right then, Hotch felt like he could sleep.

She was okay. They had found her; the had saved her. _She would be alright. It was over._

He could've, at that moment, fallen asleep for the first time in almost a week.

But he couldn't, because he was the boss.

And that meant he had paperwork to do, people to explain himself to.

But all of that didn't matter. Emily mattered. And she was okay. So with that realization, Hotch knew he would sleep tonight.

~CM~

Garcia'd done exactly what they'd told her.

She couldn't risk messing up, not again. So she'd followed Rossi and Reid silently from the SUV, to about five feet behind Bobby.

She tried to ignore the shaking in her hands as she saw him, suddenly grateful for two reasons she was only seeing his back.

One, if she saw his face, she was sure it would be forever ingrained in her mind, more than it already was.

Two, seeing only his back meant she couldn't see Emily; she couldn't see what he'd done to her.

Garcia'd almost made a sound as Rossi cocked his weapon, just as Bobby cocked his.

At the shots though, she let out a little scream. Both her friend and her captor tumbled down after the two shots were fired. It seemed like no one had any clue which bullet came from which gun, and who was even hit at all.

Penelope clutched her chest, because all of a sudden it felt like she was going to fall apart.

She saw Dave, just standing there, still gripping the gun in his hands, shaking his head from side to side ever so slightly.

A sob escaped her chest as Derek started running.

_What if Emily was dead?_

She almost wanted to turn away, close her eyes and pretend this was all a dream. But it wasn't. Because there was Sam's body, surrounded by a pool of blood laying not even five feet away from her. There were Bobby's and Emily's forms lying in a tangled heap next to the van.

And there was Derek, pulling Bobby off, kicking his gun to the side.

Penelope closed her eyes as he reached for Emily's pulse. She was covered in blood; blood Penelope wasn't even sure was hers.

A minute later, she'd heard nothing, so she opened her eyes, seeing a CSI gently guiding the gun from Rossi's hands, seeing paramedics lifting Emily from Derek's lap and onto a stretcher. A breath of relief escaped her lips.

She almost smiled. Emily was alive. It would all be okay.

Almost. But she didn't, because, looking down, she saw Bobby's face staring right back at her, which only brought a fresh wave darkness to her mind.

Darkness she wasn't sure would ever go away.

~CM~

Reid ran the calculations over in his head.

_A bullet travels at 3,000 feet per second. The human mind takes one-hundredths of a second to have a proper response to anything._

He ran the numbers over in his head, trying desperately to hold on to something _real, _like math. Math always made sense, unlike emotions. Emotions were messy and unexplainable, while math was just math. It was simple.

Yet math didn't solve everything. It didn't solve the tightening in his chest as he watched Hotch wearily approach Emily's body.

It didn't solve the breath he held as Morgan reached for her pulse.

The whole time, Reid had been trying desperately to turn away for the scene in front of him, to retreat into his own mind, where he couldn't get hurt.

But, for what may have been the first time in his life, the young genius' brain didn't seem to be working.

He found his eyes instead glued to the scene in front of him, watching the breath Morgan released as he found that his partner was alive.

_She was alive._

Reid closed his eyes, and found that he could think again.

He thought as he watched Emily being forced away from Morgan and into an ambulance. He thought about how it only took one event, one person, one possibility, to completely shut his mind down.

Because Spencer Reid, as much as he hated to admit it sometimes, was human.

And the human mind was not, in any way, perfect. It needed love, it needed reassurance, and, most of all, it could be broken.

~CM~

JJ had looked to Emily, who's eyes were fluttering open. She'd tried, desperately, to get the brunette to make eyes contact.

When their eyes finally met, she gave a small nod, which she wasn't sure her friend would even understand. But she had to believe that she would.

Rossi, JJ knew, would understand. He would shoot, and Emily would duck.

That was how it would've happened in a perfect world.

But this world, was damn far from perfect. So before Emily had even a chance to nod back, the gunshots rang out.

JJ stood behind Hotch as he started to move, but she couldn't bring herself to go with him.

Her knees buckled ever so slightly, and she found herself leaning on a nearby police car, taking deep breaths.

_No, no no no no, this couldn't be happening._

But it was, because this is what the job meant. It meant that any day, they could lose one of their own. On a random Tuesday like today, she could lose one of her best friends, just like that.

JJ found she couldn't bare to look in the direction of the bodies.

She had fought for this job. She constantly fought for it.

With Strauss, with the Pentagon, even with Will.

And was it even worth it? Was anything worth dying for? Losing your best friend for?

But she knew it was. No matter the danger, they were helping make the world better; she had to believe that.

Footsteps rushed by her and she somehow forced her body to turn towards Derek, now leaning over Emily, touching her hair, which was unevenly cut short. The relief in Derek's eyes mirrored JJ's as he gave her a reassuring look.

And JJ knew, right then, that it was worth it.

The job: all the sleepless nights, nightmares, weeks away from home; it was all worth it, just for moments like these. Moments where you can feel the relief surging through your body and you know that you'd just saved someone.

These moments, like when she watched Emily being lifted into the ambulance, knowing she would be okay; was what got JJ through the days.

It was these times that made her job bearable, that made it worth it.

And focusing on that, on their happy ending, JJ got shakily in the car and followed the blinking red lights to the hospital.

**[I know Rossi probably wouldn't have been the one who shot on the show, but I made him the shooter because I feel like we've never even seen him even hold a gun on the show or anything. Is it just me? I don't know, I just thought I should give him something, at least in fanfiction.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed it:)**

**Reviews are appreciated, one more chapter to go]**


	12. Chapter 12

**[I'm kind of sad to see this story over, but I'm overall glad with the way it turned out (:**

**Leave me a review and let me know how you liked it.**

**Hope you enjoy the last chapter(:**

**PS. It's just strong friendship, but if you're a Demily shipper, you will probably see some hints there, couldn't help myself, haha;)]**

"_We need others. We need others to love and we need to be loved by them. There is no doubt that without it, we too, like the infant left alone, would cease to grow, cease to develop, choose madness and even death." - _Leo F. Buscalgia

_**One Month Later**_

She looks around the familiar bar, taking in the atmosphere, the people.

God, she never thought she'd miss this place; with its dingy tables and chairs that were falling apart. With the old worn out pool table, and Joe, the bartender who was overly cautious and would take your keys after only two drinks.

But she had. In that cellar, all she had thought about was being back here, with the team. She'd wished she was here, smelling the beer and sweat, hearing the douchebags in the side booth dog whistle and hit on everything with a pulse. She never thought she would be here again.

Running a hand through her hair, now cut in a short bob just above her shoulders, she scans the room for her team.

She notices Garcia dancing animatedly, trying to get Reid to join her. She sees Dave and Hotch at the pool table, and JJ at the dart board, surrounded by guys. She doesn't seem to notice though, as she orders another drink and hits the bulls-eye again. Emily reminds herself to go get her friend soon; two more drinks, and that's it.

Looking at the bar, she sees Derek talking to a petite Hispanic woman, smiling.

She catches his eye, and he looks at her. Actually looks at her, and starts to make his way over. God, was she glad they worked things out. She didn't think she could stand him not being able to look at her, like the first couple weeks.

_**One Week Ago**_

_The four of them stepped into the elevator, silent._

_Emily looked up. Garcia gave her a smile so fake, it just about shattered her heart. Reid gave an awkward nod. But Derek; he didn't even look in her direction. He just stared down, as if he was overly interested in the shoes he was wearing that day._

_The ping of the elevator interrupted her thoughts and everyone stepped out, heading in the directions of their cars._

"_Morgan, wait!", the words inadvertently slipped out of her mouth._

_He turned around slowly, head still down, and she walked up to him._

"_Morgan.", she said, attempting to get him to look her in the eyes._

_He just gave a shrug of the shoulders, still not moving his gaze from the ground._

"_Morgan, look at me.", she pleaded. He didn't know how much this was hurting her. She'd missed him; his laugh, his voice, his friendship. Emily was deathly afraid they would never get that back._

_He didn't budge, just tilted his head up, his eyes still fixed on something else._

"_Derek, please.", she said, using his first name on purpose, her voice breaking on the last syllable._

_Finally, his gaze locked with hers. By that time, there were tears in her eyes._

_He looked at her for a second, before turning away completely._

"_I'm so sorry Emily.", he said quietly._

_Slowly, deliberately, her hand made its way onto his shoulder._

"_It wasn't your fault.", she responded simply, truthfully._

_Pulling his arm away, he turned to face her, his eyes glazing with tears._

"_I know. I know it wasn't, but I- I can't look you in the eyes. It's a constant reminder of how I didn't protect you. I just... I can't, Emily.", his voice broke on her name._

_She just stood there for a second, her eyes burning holes into the ground. She couldn't say anything to make him feel better, she realized. As much as this was hurting her, it was probably hurting him more. She couldn't imagine having that on your conscience. And yet, some small part of her felt like he was ignoring her, like it was something she'd done._

"_You can look at Garcia.", Emily noted quietly, almost ashamed at the remark._

_She had noticed though, how Derek and Penelope had gotten almost back to normal. He even drove her to therapy, which she needed now, because of her PTSD._

_He was the one she called in the middle of the night when she had nightmares, Emily knew. He was the one who's shoulder she cried on._

_Emily couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at that. _

_He was helping Garcia so much, they were normal, maybe even closer than before, and he wouldn't even look at Emily. Maybe it **was** just her, she thought._

"_We saved her... She- she didn't get hurt.", he responded, looking at her again. _

_Emily felt a tear roll down her cheek as she saw his hurt expression. How could this, just looking at her, cause him so much pain? _

_Maybe her transferring would be better. Everyone had treated her like she was made of porcelain since she'd gotten back to work. Her own partner would not even look her in the eyes. Maybe the team would just be better off._

"_Besides, Penelope needs me.", Derek added, still looking at Emily with that broken face that she'd come to know over the last couple weeks._

"_I need you too.", she all but whispered._

_Couldn't he see that? Didn't he realize how true that was? She missed him; she missed them, how they used to be._

_More tears overflowed and rolled down her cheeks, and she didn't even bother wiping them away._

_Seconds later, his arms were wrapping around her, and she let herself cry._

_His hand ran soothingly through her hair, and she found herself afraid to let go._

_Because if she let go, she was afraid that he would start ignoring her again, that he would put his walls up and she would never be able to get through. No, this couldn't be all she got. One hug couldn't be all she got._

_So he was the one who pulled away, sensing her hesitation, understanding._

_He looked into her eyes then, sensing just how much he'd hurt her, just how much she needed him. And so he swallowed his feelings and his guilt, for her._

"_I'm not going anywhere Princess.", he said then, pressing a kiss to her temple, much like when he'd found her three weeks ago. He pushed those memories down though, and tried to focus on the one they were making right now._

"_Thank you.", she said, burying her face in his chest. And suddenly, it felt just like nothing had changed._

"_Always.", he replied, holding her close._

_**Present Day**_

He reaches the table and places the beers in his hands down with a loud clunk.

Motioning for Emily to scoot over, he sits next to her in the booth, looking out into the crowd dancing. He spots Reid and Garcia then, and smiles.

"Looks like they're having fun.", he motions with his head to the dance floor.

Emily nods. It does; even Garcia. She'd been getting better lately – Emily guessed the therapy was helping. Yeah, the tech was still not back to her usual clothing selections, but her personality was back, for the most part.

"You don't wanna go dance?", Derek says again, motioning this time to the man sitting at the bar, eyeing Emily intensely.

"This would make it kind of hard, don't you think?", she says sarcastically and motions to the hard cast on her right arm. She can't believe it still has to be on. But apparently the injury had 'healed incorrectly', and now it needs to be repaired. Bullshit. Emily just wants to get back to work.

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, both nursing their beers, enjoying it. It's a comfortable silence; like the ones they had shared before this whole mess. Derek starts wiping off the condensation on his glass, watching Emily.

She's selfishly comforted by the fact that he's there, with her, just sitting on silence, when he could be no doubt dancing with a girl and enjoying himself.

"Hey, Derek, let's go dance.", she says unexpectedly, causing him to look up and shoot her a confused look.

He waits a moment and then responds, careful not to say something wrong. Usually, he was quite the smooth talker, but Emily could twist his words around in an instant.

"I'm not complaining Princess, because, I would just _love to_, but may I ask what brought this on?", he asks, satisfied with his question.

She grins and looks away, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"What?", he asks, now curious, as he leans toward her.

"You'll laugh.", she responds, looking him in the eyes, almost like issuing a challenge.

"I won't.", he says. Challenge accepted. "Promise."

"Okay.", she takes a deep breath. "Well, when I was down in that cellar with Bobby,", she begins, and tries to ignore the anger on his face when she mentions that, "I thought I was gonna die. So, I got to thinking about my regrets, and the only thing I could think of... was that I never got to dance with Derek Morgan.", she says, looking to his face, testing for a reaction.

He breaks out into a wide smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"It might've just been the drugs though.", she adds, smiling back at him.

"Well, lets find out.", he says, already getting up and practically pulling her out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

As Emily dances, can't help thinking that she'd been right to talk to him that day, to make things right, not to leave the team. Because then this wouldn't have happened, and she would've lost the only family she'd ever known.

We all have to make choices in life, that's inevitable. And when you make the wrong choice, mistakes can't be avoided. But this time, she'd made the right choice. The universe had worked out for her, the planets aligned, or whatever, and she was here. Alive, here, dancing with Derek Morgan in some dingy bar she can't even remember the name of. And yet she wouldn't have it any other way.

"_Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice." -_Ayn Rand

_**Fin**_


End file.
